Page 71 of To Touch A Silent Fury (The Bride of Eavenfold #1)

He looked at me then, and his expression was entirely tortured.

“I understand now why the world hasn’t allowed there to be more than one of you.

It’s too much to bear.” My brow furrowed as he continued.

“You are suffering. Your dragon has been taken from you. Your closest friend. My own friend, injured. I have hurt you so many times, and you look at me with no cruelty. I deserve it, I deserve your anger. Your entire life is falling apart, and somehow, all I can think about is how I will never breathe again if I cannot kiss you.”

My heart thudded against my bones, and my hands quivered at my sides.

“Curse me,” he demanded.

“I will not.”

“Curse me,” he repeated. “Tell me I am a heartless cad. Tell me you despise me. Tell me you could never want me how I want you.”

“No.”

“Tani.” He stepped forwards, the lamplight catching against the scaling fire in his eyes.

“You must not allow me even the smallest hope for you. For like the moon, I will hang in the darkness for all eternity, isolated from any other touch, thinking only of you. Do me this one cruelty now, and I will stop talking of it forever. ”

I said nothing, for there was nothing I wanted to say. I barely breathed, my throat tight. He breathed heavily enough for both of us, weighted by his confession.

“Curse me,” he demanded, stepping closer again. Our hands were inches from each other, and our lips closer still. “Curse me and break this spell you have over me.”

I stared at his mouth. He reached up but did not let his hand brush my face. Trembling, I leaned forwards, and the Dragon Prince’s rough palm touched my cheek.

If one could drown in desire, I might have done then. My need for him, and his for me, consumed us so entirely the room faded into nothing. We were the night sky itself, endless and expansive.

Lang leaned forwards, resting his forehead on mine. “Curse me,” he breathed.

I cannot. I cannot.

My hands curled at my sides as I let the words fall. “I cannot.”

“Then kiss me,” he whispered.

His fingers tipped my chin, and then I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to his.

He breathed out a moan, and his hand snaked behind my neck as he pressed his mouth against mine.

My breath was locked in my chest, caged as I hung in that moment, revelling in the feeling of his mouth pushing against mine.

Soft, eager, warm. It was childlike in its exploration.

Foundational in its worship. I could hardly think.

Then I opened my mouth to gasp in some air, and Lang pushed me back, his lips pressing to mine in small insistent kisses, and I grabbed onto his shoulders as he guided me by the waist until we hit the curtained wall.

We did not break apart, my eyes staying closed as he kissed me harder, pushing his body against mine .

I whimpered, the feeling of his mouth against mine heady, but when combined with our rushing emotions I needed his hands on me to keep from falling as his victory, impulse, and yearning met my pulsing need, craving, and submission. Kiss me more, touch me more. There was nothing but this, and us.

Lang’s hand at my waist held firm, his thumb brushing my ribs as he kissed hard enough to bruise and yet still not hard enough.

Then, through the blood swirling in my ears, I heard it. Muffled voices at the door.

We both froze, then broke apart. Lang turned to stare at the door as a voice replied to the guards. It was the Wragg.

Lang grabbed my hand. “Run.”

I shook my head, the bar across the door already sliding. “There’s no time. He’ll hear me.”

He looked at me with pure anguish as the doors began to open. “Tani—”

I shoved him away from me, taking two steps away myself and forcing some distance between us as Banrillen’s face appeared in the open doorway. Surprise dawned upon his irritated expression, and then a well-honed anger carved a smile into his cheek.

The Wragg stepped inside, his body replacing the breadth of a door. “Look who’s here. Did you lose your beads, my beloved?”

I thought I was already as tense as I could be, but his tone froze every muscle in my body.

Lang was no longer staring at me. His mask had come back, painting his face with its unreadable wash of nothing as he stood with his arms folded. “Ban. Did you injure my man?”

Banrillen rolled his shoulders. “Me? Injure a knight of the kingdom? A defender of Droundhaven? My brother’s closest and only friend?”

“That wasn’t an answer. ”

“Do you accuse me of it?” Banrillen replied, his voice like an axe in Gossamir. The doors closed behind him as his face changed from white to red.

Lang tried his best to look bored, and failed, his cheeks still warm and fingers quivering. “If he dies, I will put it on your head.”

Banrillen sneered. “You would betray your family so swiftly?”

Lang gestured to me, as calmly as he could. “This woman is on the eve of becoming family, and you have betrayed her.”

He took a hulking step forwards and sniffed in my direction, his gaze sickeningly dangerous. “Have I now?”

“You had no right to take her dragon.”

“Right?” he repeated, his incredulity so thick it hung in the air like a bad smell. “Right? How dare you speak to me of right .”

Lang only rolled his eyes as I pressed myself into the corner of the room as their standoff became its own arena. “Brother—”

“No,” Banrillen interrupted. “You almost had me fooled. What was it you called her? Nothing but a commoner with scraps on her back?” His red face shifted into something close to purple as he watched his brother with fratricidal eyes. “Now, because I have claimed her, you want her.”

The insults he placed in his brother’s mouth did not fall, for I knew them to be entirely false.

Lang tutted, leaning against the wall with affected disinterest. He had yet to look at me since his brother had stepped into the room, and I was glad of it. “Taking her dragon was unnecessary.”

Banrillen advanced, his dull brown eyes full of hate. Lang straightened, taking a step towards me.

“You lie. You always lie.” I shuddered as the Wragg saw through his brother’s deceit as easily as I had. “You have always been nothing more than a thief, brother. My dragon, my title. And now you seek to take my wife, too. You cannot have everything. You cannot have her. ”

Banrillen set his mouth, his rigid expression as poisonous as his aunt’s. The elder brother turned to me, and as he did, Lang stepped into his path, reaching his arm back towards me.

“Oh.” Banrillen raised an eyebrow, but there was no surprise left on his face. “Unless you already have? Have you spoiled her, brother? Have you ruined her, or did she want it? Did she fall into your arms like a common whore?”

Lang breathed in and out, and when he replied his voice was well-controlled. And yet, I could hear where it strained at the edges, feel the wrath straining the corners of every word. “This has nothing to do with her. This is between you and me.”

“True enough,” Banrillen said. He took a calculated step backwards and raised his hands, looking only at his brother.

Lang’s hand tensed. “Go.”

I knew he addressed me.

I looked between them. The panel lay open to my side, but I didn’t know if it was an exit as well as an entrance, and I didn’t want to be stuck in a dark tunnel with no way out. The door stood in front of me, but it required stepping past the Wragg.

Banrillen waved his arm towards the door. “Yes, go.”

The evening light stretched long and gaunt shadows from the window panes and war table, and the silence stretched longer still. I stared between them, taking a hesitant step up to Lang. Neither brother moved.

I stepped past Lang, his outstretched hand brushing my arm as I moved past, and I felt his fear.

Even from the briefest touch, I knew the fear was entirely for me.

Yvon’s words once again swirled in my head, from her warnings about the wolves.

Move steadily, keep breathing, do not look them in the eyes.

It was this last piece of advice I clung to the most as I edged past the Wragg. I was close enough to feel the warmth of him as I stepped past his hulking muscular frame. A breath fell through my lips as I took the step which would move me out of his reach.

Then, snakelike and faster than I would have believed, he grabbed my upper arm. “Oh wait, I’ve changed my mind.”

I stifled my cry as he pulled me towards him in an iron grip. My arm screamed as he twisted me so my back was against his chest, my arm clawing up towards my neck. It wouldn’t take much for the man to break my arm.

“Ban.” Lang’s warning rang out, the syllable somehow forming a threat.

Banrillen touched my cheek, and I shuddered. “It’s the night before our wedding, and I haven’t kissed my bride-to-be goodnight.”

The Wragg turned me to him, releasing my arm only to hold my shoulders. He stared down at me with a smile that might have looked friendly but for the hideous envy circling his entire mind. I glared at him.

“Take your hands off her.” Lang sounded closer, but I didn’t dare look.

Banrillen’s smile turned smug. “So it seems this does involve her.”

Before he could move, I spat on his shoe. “Unhand me.”

My voice was stronger than I had hoped, and I straightened, staring him directly in the eye.

He did not flinch. “She speaks.”

“She hits too, if you won’t stop holding me like a weapon.” I was done being the silent object in their fraternal war. He had stolen my fucking dragon.

“Is that so? I think I liked it better when you didn’t speak.”

“Likewise.”

His face reddened.

I held none of my rage back. “Where is my dragon?”

The Wragg raised his hand and smacked me so soundly across the cheek I saw stars. I stumbled backwards, hitting my hip against the table’s edge before falling onto my behind just under the table, still dazed.

I was still blinking when I heard the movement.

“You bastard.”

My vision swirled back as Lang leapt at Banrillen, soaring a punch straight at his face. Banrillen swerved at the last moment, the blow glancing his cheek as he grabbed Lang around the middle. Lang broke his grip and spun, digging his elbow deep into Banrillen’s gut and then jumping away.

My cheek was red hot, and I held my hand to it as my neck ached. If I stood now, I would lose my balance.

The men faced each other, Banrillen looking more startled than hurt, an expression which quickly changed to satisfaction. This is exactly what he wanted, to goad Lang into a fight.

Lang’s shadow cast greater than his true height, putting Banrillen in darkness as he glared at him, and for once, they were mirrored in their hatred and malice.

Lang moved, hopping forwards to deliver a strong hit to Banrillen’s gut once more.

As he danced back, Banrillen followed and moved true, feinting to the right before delivering a swing to Lang’s side with crippling force.

Lang’s knees buckled, but Banrillen wasn’t done, delivering a knee to his face.

My heart jumped, and I pushed myself to my knees as Lang fell back, holding his nose as he groaned. Banrillen stood over him, leaning down. He readied his fist to send another blow directly at his brother’s face as I scrambled forwards.

The dragontooth sank deep into the flesh at the back of Banrillen’s calf, piercing his trousers like butter and his skin like tender meat.

His back arched as he cried out a huge bellow, and swung his tree-like arms around, catching me handily as if I were nothing more than a leaf, and throwing me across the room .

For a moment, I just flew, my eyes wide. Then I clattered hard against the wall, my shoulder blade slamming into the panelling before I hit the floor, my knee smacking against the marble.

I whimpered, clutching my body as the pain bloomed across me like stabbing points of light. All I could think about was my shoulder, my cheek, my knee; I couldn’t comprehend anything else. I knew I ought to move, to get up, but everything protested when I tried to sit up.

A shadow fell over me, and I pushed myself back against the wall with blank fear. Until I saw it was Lang. He stood above me, his hands bloodied at his sides as I sprawled on the marble floor. His nose bled, his cheek was split, and when he limped forwards I saw how he favoured his right side.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, chiming like a Sellador bell, was this memory, replayed in words. Him standing over me, me on the floor, both of us bloodied.

Seth’s vision. What he hadn’t seen was the backdrop; Banrillen lying face down on the floor, moaning as he held his own bloodied face, the dragontooth still embedded in his calf.

Lang bent down and grabbed me, pulling me to his chest. “You have to run, right now.”

I nodded. “You, too.”

He grimaced, and lied to my face. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Banrillen was on his knees, his roar bestial as he rose once more.

I ran for the door. At least, I started to run. On the second stride my knee crumbled under my own weight, but I hobbled forwards, slamming my hand against the door as the guards pulled it open.

They looked at me in surprise, and I limped out of the room, casting one final look in as Banrillen loomed over Lang. Banrillen yelled at the guards to leave them, and the doors closed once more, sealing them in .

I made it halfway to the main hall before I collapsed. One worried maid became several staff in an instant, and even with my vision blacking in and out, and my ears ringing, I was certain I heard a distant shattering of glass.